


Cafe 221

by namara_ashina



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, cafelock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1293457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namara_ashina/pseuds/namara_ashina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John own a cafe</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cafe 221

**Author's Note:**

> Made for Zasha's art

([x](https://twitter.com/Zashache/status/442837782839304192))

 

It was around mid afternoon when the last of the lunch rush finally departed, leaving the cafe rather empty. The weekend was always more busy, what with people out shopping and parents taking their children out. Sherlock slung the cloth he'd been using to wipe off the tables around his shoulder and picked up the few remaining plates to bring back to the kitchen. Passing through the double doors, he came rather close to colliding with John, who seemed rather intent on the frying pan he was holding in one hand and the spoon he had in the other.

"What have you got in there?" Sherlock asked, tipping his head to get a better look at the pan's contents.

"Hm? Oh this is just heading for the sink, I used it earlier to fry up some eggs," John replied as he stuck the tip of the spoon in his mouth.

"I'm assuming _that_ wasn't used to make said eggs?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow as John proceeded to lick the spoon.

"Of course not," John chuckled, "I adding some lemon extract to the strawberry jam. Here, what do you think?" he asked as he presented the spoon for Sherlock to take. 

The man in question simply smirked and dipped his head forward. Wrapping his free hand around John's so as to steady it and giving the spoon a rather lascivious lick, causing the shorter man to turn rather red in the face.

"Yes I think that will do quite nicely," he replied smoothly as he gently pried the frying pan out of John's rather shocked grip and proceeded towards the sink, humming softly under his breath.

 


End file.
